The Heart of a Snake
by lexi.atel
Summary: You'd never know it, but Lucius once had a good friend; she was a Gryffindor. And he liked her. He liked her a lot. And then Arthur Weasley had to steal her away, awaking the heart of a snake.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: WARNING: This is an AU/AT story. This means that it does not exactly follow canon (the original Harry Potter series), an example of this is that (in this story) Molly Weasley is 4 years younger than she is allegedly in canon (I have de-aged her).**

 _This story idea was given to me by my aunt, who wondered why Lucius had such a hate for Arthur Weasley. This is based on **her** theory (even though all us fanatics know the canon reason), and it sounded interesting to me, so I decided to write it._

 _ **DISCLAIMER: All rights belong to J.K ROWLING for her lovely characters and world. I'm just playing around with them. Thank you, J.K, for sharing your imagination with us.**_

 _Thanks for reading, have a lovely day._

* * *

Cold air pulled into his nose while he stood, waiting for his grandson— the first he'll have seen of the boy since he had been sent off to Hogwarts months ago. His wife, son, and daughter-in-law were nearby, talking to their friends. Lucius had none of his own. The ones he used to have were long gone, either dead or locked away in Azkaban, serving lifelong terms for their dastardly deeds.

He was lucky he wasn't there himself. Very lucky. Really, he was _extremely_ lucky.

He sniffed, his nose red and wet from the wintery weather, and Lucius rubbed the length of his arms with his gloved hands, contemplating on whether to cast a warming spell on himself or not.

He didn't get a chance to decide either way as something filled his nostrils, making them flare out. It wasn't caused by the cold, instead, by a smell.

A _fruity_ smell.

He looked up, his stomach lurching after he heard an all-too-familiar voice talking to a group of redheads surrounding her, all there to pick up their own children and grandchildren.

Classical music played inside his head right then, and Lucius forgot about the cold, lost in a happy memory. He actually smiled, but it faded away soon after when he remembered that those happy memories were only just that: long gone, joyous moments with a friend that he had lost so many years before.

He would never get her back. It had been too late then, and it was _much_ too late now.

His wife of nearly forty years stuck her hand into his, squeezing it. Lucius cleared his throat and looked away from the family of redheads— specifically one of them. He envied them, and always had.

"Still grieving over your mistakes?"

"It is a thing that will always stick with me, even after almost half a century; I'll never forgive myself— nor… _him_."

"I highly doubt he did anything on purpose—"

"It doesn't matter."

"Obviously, it does to you, since you have constantly thought about it for the last forty-seven years now."

It truly amazed Lucius that Narcissa was not the jealous type. She had every right to be, but she had never shown even the tiniest bit of jealousy— and she had known how Lucius had felt for many years: since before they were even married. She didn't understand him, but she did support him.

She had been a wonderful wife and friend all these years to him, and he repaid her by moping around from time to time, pitying himself for his rotten luck.

"You're staring again," Narcissa advised. "She's going to think you're cursing her or something."

He could tell she was half-joking, but he looked away just the same: it was positively rude to stare.

Lucius closed his eyes, a tiny smile tugging to the corner of his mouth. A unique tune to Antonio Vivaldi's "Winter" played in his mind again.

It was the only thing that had kept him sane after all these years. That, and the memory of her smiling at him.

Of her laughing at him.

Of her shining, kind eyes looking at him.

Of her hopes and dreams, in which she had shared exclusively with him.

Of her delicious, yet deadly, hand-made fudge.

Of her _completely_.

 _What had she seen in Arthur-bloody-Weasley anyway?_

*/*

 _ **September, 1965**_

Though taught to contain his excitement through years of his father's strict upbringing, young, eleven-year-old Lucius Malfoy couldn't help himself by pointing out the Hogwarts Express when it came chugging into his view.

The Malfoys were prompt and never late, thus, they had arrived forty-five minutes before the train itself had. Mr. Malfoy had explained to Mrs. Malfoy and Lucius his reasonings for this:

The important one was that the Muggles were few and far between at the hour that the family arrived at Kings Cross (the less mingling he had to do with them, the better). As time neared to the arriving trains that the Muggles took of their own, their numbers increased dramatically— not at all unlike some of the close-to-tardy wizard families who had no idea what organization meant.

Mr. Malfoy didn't like Muggles. They were simple-minded folk, who couldn't cast magic— too ignorant to even _believe_ in magic! They overlooked everything, blind to the magnificent happenings around them, and most only cared about their immediate selves. There were more worlds than the one Muggles lived in, but they refused to acknowledge any of them except for the one that they were physically a part of.

The second reason for being among the first to Platform 9 ¾ was to claim the best compartment in the best carriage.

"The one at the very end," Lucius's father explained, "is the one that gets the least amount of attention from any of the authority figures. Even the most hard working prefects neglect that specific carriage because it's a long walk back up to the one where they have to report to the Heads. Then there's the fact that since the Hogwarts Express has over one hundred carriages— it's a time consuming activity to check up on everyone."

"And some are just flat lazy," Mrs. Malfoy added, causing her husband to give a stiff nod. "They do not take the position very seriously."

"Indeed," he agreed.

"When I'm a prefect, I'll take it extremely seriously," Lucius told his parents. Both of them had been Slytherin prefects when they were students at Hogwarts, it was only natural for him to be one himself.

"And we would expect no different from you, son," Mr. Malfoy said, squeezing the boy's shoulder affectionately.

Mrs. Malfoy then gave Lucius an enormous hug and earned a chastise from her husband when she kissed Lucius on the cheek.

"Don't embarrass the boy, Araminta."

Lucius uneasily cleared his throat when his mother pulled away from him. He couldn't bring himself to look around him, unwilling to see how many of his peers saw that slight loss of control his mother had just shown to the public.

"Sorry, dear," she told Lucius sincerely. "I'm just going to miss you so much!"

"I'll write as often as I can," Lucius promised his teary-eyed mother. He was an only child, and so he understood that she was going to go through a tough time in these next few months.

Not that he wasn't going to miss her also, but he was growing up now, and it was time for him to act like it.

"I suppose we'll see each other next at Christmas then," he announced quietly, uncomfortable from hearing his mother sniff a third time since her kissing of him.

Both his parents nodded in acknowledgement.

"Off you go then, Lucius," his father prompted. "And try to remember all that I taught you."

And that was that. The boy took in an excited, yet emotionally, massive-sized breath, and turned from the two people who had been around practically every day of his life.

He did not look back; not until he was in the 'special' compartment that his father had boasted about. His chest ached a little at the sight of them through the window, each standing there with an arm elegantly raised, waving at him. He waved back at them, matching their controlled, calm-and-collected gesture, and then he sat down, afraid that if he saw them for one more fraction of a second, he would lose control.

Lucius's eyes stung. They were irritated by his efforts of keeping his tears from creeping out. With a shaky breath, he quickly blotted a handkerchief to them, focusing his mind on something else— he didn't want people to think that he was a ninny boy who couldn't handle being away from his home.

He could do this. It'd be no trouble at all.

Lucius no sooner pocketed his damp handkerchief when the compartment door slid open. Two boys, looking to be a couple years older than him and very much similar in appearance, stepped in, too busy with a third person to even give Lucius any notice at all.

"Just get _in_ here, Molly!" one of the boys said exasperatedly.

"Yes, we promised Father that we would look after you—"

"But this is so _far_ from where the other children are sitting!" a voice, belonging to a girl, complained.

She stepped into view, hands clasping to each side of compartment's door jam, reluctant of stepping in. The boys had seated themselves across from Lucius and were unloading their shoulders of identical carry-on bags, piling them up between the two of them.

"It's really not a good idea to mingle too much with the others until you've been sorted anyway," one boy said, his eyes connecting with Lucius's, finally noticing him for the first time.

"He's right; you wouldn't want to be seen conversing with someone not-so-suitable for you," the other added, also looking at Lucius— but only after the first boy nudged him in the arm, alerting him that they had someone accompanying them.

"First year?" the second boy questioned Lucius, momentarily forgetting about the girl named Molly.

"Oh, of course he is!" Molly said with some excitement, deciding that it was now okay to come inside. "Just look how nervous he is!" She smiled with shining, bright, brown eyes and closed the compartment door behind her, taking no time to sit next to Lucius. He noted how she flattened her dress down at the back end before doing so, not unlike what the Black girls did, indicating that she had come from proper upbringing.

Lucius had not been around many girls in his past. There was the exception of the Black girls, but they were all practically family (and the youngest ones were at least two years junior to himself). None of them smelled as good as this one did either.

Molly smelled… _fruity_ … and… something _else_. Something _familiar_. He couldn't figure out what it was.

She had long glittery, curly, red hair that was pulled back into two, dainty pigtails tied off with royal blue ribbons. On a quick glance, Lucius discovered the twinkling of her hair was due to the effect of a spell.

She was still smiling at him, all too pleased to see him, as if they were the best of friends, though, they had never met before.

Maybe she had never seen a boy before—

No, of course she had seen a boy before! These two in front of him were obviously close to her.

But they were her brothers, most probably, and brothers were different than other boys, weren't they? Lucius didn't know this for sure, but he assumed so. Most of the boys he had met had no other siblings. One did have a sister, but Lucius had never met her, and the boys never talked about her: girls weren't at all interesting in the slightest, they were either very quiet or very loud. Lucius didn't even know Stephano Zabini's sister's name.

"Aren't you the Malfoy heir?" one of the boys asked with a curious tilt of his head.

The other snapped his fingers in realization. "That's him! I'll bet you so! Lucius; right?"

Lucius gave a single nod.

"We're the Prewetts twins: Fabian and Gideon— we're not identical, of course. And that's our sister, Molly, " the second boy introduced. "Our fathers work together—"

"Well, _sometimes_ ," Molly cut him off. "Only for very important missions. Our father's _the_ Head Auror. And _your_ father—" she said with emphasis, "—is _the_ Head Curse Breaker."

Lucius gave her a pleased smile, happy that she held great value in his father. "And I'm going to be just like him."

"It's a very dangerous job," the girl warned him with wide, concerned eyes. "Your father's _very_ brave— and so are you, for wanting to be a Curse Breaker too."

"It's not _that_ dangerous— not if you know what you're doing— and my family has been doing it for years. My father will teach me, just like my grandfather taught him."

"Good," Molly approved with a pointed nod. "That's probably why your father's so good at it— my father says so!"

Lucius wondered why he hadn't met this family before, remembering his father had mentioned Mr. Prewett a couple of times in the past, speaking in high regards of the man. Perhaps it was because the Head Auror was a busy career. Head Curse Breaker was too, but Lucius's father always made sure he had plenty of time to spend with his family.

"By the way, Lucius, I really love your hair—"

Lucius hastily leaned to the side, far away from Molly, seeing her hand rise up to touch his abnormally long hair. "That's just dandy, Miss Prewett," he said, shielding his hair with his arms. "But I would prefer you to not touch it! I literally spent over an hour perfecting it this morning, and I'd rather it remain that way!"

Molly let out a small giggle. "Wow, really? That long? You have a lot of patience then, but it paid off! It's incredible!"

Her brothers laughed at the reaction Lucius had on his hair, but Lucius ignored them, sighing in relief when Molly's hands retreated to her lap.

"I apologize; I only wish I had such silky hair and wondered if it felt as soft as it looked."

Lucius sat back up, stiff as a post, slightly embarrassed. "It is, Miss Prewett," he answered.

"Oh, you can call me Molly, can't you? We don't have to be _that_ formal at Hogwarts, do we?"

"I suppose not," Lucius agreed.

"See, you already made yourself a friend, Moll," Fabian told her. "Probably a future housemate too."

"We're all expecting her to be Slytherin," Gideon explained to Lucius.

"Like us—"

"It's tradition!"

"Malfoys are traditionally always sorted into Slytherin too."

"Yes, I will be Slytherin for sure," Lucius said, confirming the rumour Fabian mentioned. All true, respectful wizards were Slytherins.

"Prewetts do have a few Ravenclaws in our bloodline though," Fabian noted.

"And Gryffindors," Molly added.

"But most are Slytherins," Gideon said.

"Especially the girls." Here, Fabian laughed. "Moll's a little nervous with the outcome of her sorting."

"They all sound good," Molly said, suddenly quiet.

"Mother wants her to be Ravenclaw," Fabian explained Molly's nervousness. "We haven't had one since our great-grandmother, Audie, and Grandma Audie just passed last year…"

The room went painfully silent as the three Prewetts took that moment to reminisce over whatever memories they had had of their mother's grandmother. Lucius refrained from shifting his feet, unsure of what to say.

"And naturally, Father wants her to be Slytherin," Fabian said, breaking off the silence, as if it hadn't happened at all. "Gideon and I have a bet going on just for laughs—"

"I'm betting Molly's going to be a Gryffindor—"

"No, she _has_ to be a Hufflepuff!" Fabian argued with his brother. "We've _never_ had a Hufflepuff before!"

"Oh, just stop it!" Molly wailed at her teasing brothers. "I'm anxious enough without you two involved in on it!"

"We would love to have you in Slytherin with us though, sis," Gideon told her, all joking aside.

Lucius saw that Molly was nibbling on her lip. "You'll be placed wherever you are suited best for," Lucius assured her, feeling a little bad for Molly. It appeared that her family hadn't really considered her feelings on this subject at all.

Though, Lucius _did_ secretly hope that she would be sorted into Slytherin. She had a big nose, but Molly Prewett was a nice girl— much more pleasant to be around than Bellatrix was. _And_ she smelled good too.

But most of all, he liked that Molly had noticed his hair and valued the time he that had invested into it to make it look amazing.

* * *

 _ **AN: I will respond to all reviews, but if this story/plot is not your cup of tea, then I request that you find another story to read, as I don't intend to 'feed the trolls'. You can look for review responses at the end of every chapter.**_

 _ **Do remember that this is fanFICTION; many things that will happen in this story are not real, nor based off anything that is real. I am not putting my life directly into this. I am not condoning anything that goes on in this story whether it's bigotry, sexism, dark themes, relationships, hardships, religion or/and bad luck. This is not a biography of any sort, nor a guide to follow in life. Nothing in this story is based off anything that I personally support or have experienced. This is strictly FICTION and written for pure ENTERTAINMENT.**_


	2. Chapter 2

"We'll see you after the sorting," Fabian told Molly, when the train stopped, and the students had gotten off it.

"You'll take the boats to the castle, and we'll—"

" _Boats_?" Lucius interrupted Gideon with a squeak. "You did say boats?"

"Yes, we get to ride in tiny, little boats, all the way to the castle!" Molly explained to Lucius in excitement. "And they move on their own."

Her smile faltered when she saw that Lucius's face had paled even more than its natural tone. "Oh, dear, Lucius, are you afraid of water? Are you afraid to swim?"

"I'm not afraid of _swimming_ , just _drowning_!"

"It'll be okay!" she said, gesturing him to follow the hollering of a loud man who was calling for "Firs' years". "You can ride with me, and if anything happens— which nothing will— I swim real well, and I'll save you! I swim so good, that my father used to call me Swishy Little Fishy—" She giggled softly, growing red in the face. "Oops, that's quite embarrassing, now that I think about it."

Lucius didn't argue with her at all with that one.

Bellatrix Black was an awful girl. She was bossy, pouty, and she easily fooled the adults with her already-mastered-at-manipulation tricks. Lucius hadn't liked her from the day they had met when they were five. She had been playing with one of his toys and suddenly wailed out in a scream. Lucius, who was not at all accustomed to the high-pitched voices of little girls, covered his ears up in fright. Their mothers hurried to them, also scared, thinking that she had been hurt.

"Lucius says I can't play with his toys! He's not very nice at all, Mother— you said he was nice!"

Lucius remembered his jaw dropping in complete shock, upset that she had said such a thing. It was a big lie! He had let her play with whatever she wanted— his father had said that she was his guest, so he had to be very nice to her, and if he was, he would get to go to Diagon Alley and pick whatever he wanted. Lucius wanted a new toy top, one that started spinning on voice command.

Alas, he did not get that top that he had so desired, not after his mother told Mr. Malfoy what Bellatrix had accused him of doing. Instead, he got a good striking along his backside for being mean and was sent straight to bed without any dinner.

Lucius learned that day that his word against Bellatrix's meant nothing. So it was obvious that when he had seen his prettily, dressed 'friend' approach him while Molly picked out a 'safe looking' boat, he was hesitant in greeting her.

Nonetheless, he had also learned that when it came to the Black girls (Bellatrix especially), he was forbidden to be rude.

"Good evening, Bellatrix," he greeted with forced charm.

"Hello, Lucius. I looked all over for you on the train; where were you hiding at?"

"We were way at the—"

"This is Molly Prewett," Lucius interrupted Molly, not at all interested in letting Bellatrix know where they had been sitting at. "Our fathers work together."

"Oh, yes, I met her cousin once. Blaire… no, that's not it... Blake? He was good looking… Enchanting eyes..."

"Blaine," Molly supplied. "Nice to meet you… Bellatrix?"

The dark headed girl gave Molly a simple nod. "There's room for three of us, so I shall join you tonight."

"Oh, yes, plenty of room," Molly agreed, sitting down on a bench, though Bellatrix hadn't waited for any permission; she held out her hand for Lucius to take so he could stabilize her balance for when she stepped into the boat Molly had picked. Lucius took Bellatrix's hand without any hesitance, doing exactly what he had been taught to do.

"Ow!" Bellatrix screeched immediately, yanking her hand from his. "You scratched me with your freakishly, long nails!"

"I do not have _freakishly_ , long nails," Lucius argued calmly, having expected her to complain about something. Always the drama queen, this one.

"You did so!" Bellatrix insisted, inspecting the palm of her hand closely with a pout. "I told you to cut them months ago; _boys_ aren't supposed to have nails!"

"Then why is it possible for me grow them?" he countered.

She shrugged, ignoring his fact. "They're longer than mine, Lucius, _honestly_!"

This was not true, but Lucius didn't get to say so, because the man who had led them down to the lake was ushering them into the boat.

"Hush up now, children! We be late for the sortin'. Please, just get in teh boat, and then we be off!"

Lucius carefully stepped in, sitting next to Molly, wanting to be as far away from Bellatrix as possible.

"How many spells do you know, Molly?" Bellatrix asked, once the boats started sailing across the surface of the lake. She took out her wand, smiling with her not-so-sweet grin.

Lucius's mouth suddenly went dry. He swallowed uneasily. "Bella, maybe now is not the time," he said, purposely using her nickname.

"It's the perfect time to compare our experiences," she told him. "Personally, Molly, I like fishing, it's not something a witch usually does—" she said as she placed her wand into the water, "—but I've made it into an acceptable sport."

There was a splash, and Lucius yelped as something large flew into his lap. A smelly fish was flapping, trying with all its might to get back into the water.

"It's so helpless," Bellatrix noted eerily, watching its movement slow as it gasped for air.

Molly scooped the thing up into her arms and tossed it overboard, making Bellatrix cry out in protest.

"That was _my_ fish!"

"You should only fish if you're going to eat it—"

"Perhaps I _was_ going to eat it! You didn't know!"

"And how were you even going to cook it?"

"What, you think _I_ am going to _cook_?!" Bellatrix cackled, thoroughly amused with Molly's question. " _Servants_ cook, Molly, and I am far from a servant!"

"We have a big dinner at Hogwarts, you can eat there, you don't need to kill a fish."

"I wasn't going to even kill it," Bellatrix pouted. "I was only playing."

"It didn't look like you were playing to me," Molly said. "That poor fish was suffering and scared to death!"

Bellatrix leaned forward, showing all her perfectly straight, front teeth with a smirk. "It seems you have a lot to learn still, Miss Molly poo," that was all she said to Molly before she sat back up, pointedly raising her eyebrows up at Lucius.

"Not thinking about the deep, swallowing, life-taking water now, are you, Lucius?" she teased darkly.

Lucius looked away, saying nothing. He wrinkled his nose up, disgusted by the smell of fish, but he kept his mouth shut about it, not wanting to instigate Bellatrix any further. He would have to fix the stench of his robes as soon as they got off the blasted boat. Bellatrix would no doubt just do something worse if he tried so now.

The Great Hall was packed with at least a thousand people. Lucius grew nervous when his name was called for him to go sit on the tall stool in front of _everyone_. His heart thumped a little until the sorting hat was placed on his head, shutting out all sight and sound.

 _"Ah, time for another Malfoy, ay!"_

No one had told Lucius that it could say anything more than just a house name!

 _"Are you just like the rest of your bloodline, boy; do you wish to be in Slytherin?"_

"Well, yes, of course!" Lucius spoke up quickly, fearing he would get sorted elsewhere if he didn't.

 _"Perfect! Then it shall be..._ SLYTHERIN! _"_

Lucius's knees felt weak as he walked, but he proudly made his way toward the table of cheering Slytherins, a huge smile on his face.

He watched with interest as the rest of his peers were sorted, listening with bated breath as Molly was called for her turn. The hat wobbled left to right, Lucius could hear no words being spoken, but he was sure Molly and the hat were talking. Finally, it spoke, and Lucius watched her jump up off of the stool and run to the Gryffindor table.

The rest of the sorting was a blur to the young Malfoy. He was quite sad that Molly hadn't been sorted into his house, and that she couldn't sit with him as they ate dinner.

Instead, a girl with blond hair sat next to him on his right, and a small boy on his left. The boy said a quick hi to the newly sorted Slytherins, the girl had not said anything, appearing to be shy and distant.

Lucius looked around at his housemates.. Some he had met, such as Bellatrix and Patrick Goyle, others he only heard of: Julian Leafshoot and Alanna Wittle, both came from fine bloodlines.

And of course, Stephano was here with him, but Lucius noticed that his Italian friend had already chummed up with another girl; they were both speaking in Italian— about food, if Lucius understood correctly. He knew some words, but not enough to speak fluently.

He picked at his food, moping to himself, knowing that wishing was a waste of time when things had already occurred and couldn't be changed.

Still, until he made some new friends, he was going to be fairly lonely without Molly by his side.

Why did she have to be sorted in Gryffindor, none other than Slytherin's _rival_?

The first class that Gryffindors and Slytherins had together was Potions. Lucius had intended to wait for Molly to ask to sit with her, but Eric Chapman (the small boy who had sat next Lucius at the Opening Ceremony) asked if he would be his partner instead. Lucius thought about declining, but he remembered what his father had taught him:

 _Slytherins are always first before anyone else._

Besides that, he was supposed to be making himself popular with them. He was already known, what with his wealth and pristine bloodline, but his father had warned him that he would have to work hard to keep whatever status he would already have while also increasing the strength of it.

So Lucius hesitantly accepted Eric's offer, successfully keeping his disappointment bottled deep within.

It was just his luck that Eric was a terrible student when it came to Potions— possibly the reason why he had asked Lucius if he was any good in the subject. Eric was also clumsy and had poured three too many stewed horned slugs into the brew, because of this, the porcupine quills didn't dissolve as they should have, and thus, their Boil Cure potion was a complete failure.

Lucius had never in his life imagined getting a 0 in Potions. It was the easiest, most straight-forward class of all Hogwarts! He would have been humiliated if no one else had the same trouble, but to his surprise, he and Eric weren't the only ones who received a 0. In fact, out of the entire class that day, the only team to have received full marks was an overly giddy Bellatrix and her partner— a girl named Yvette Gale.

Bellatrix had just gotten lucky, Lucius figured. Or perhaps she hadn't let Yvette do _anything_ at all if she had been aware that Yvette was inexperienced in the subject.

Lucius would have to try that himself next time.

"Lucius!" Molly stopped him right after he exited the room.

"Hello, Molly," Lucius greeted with a smile, stepping aside so his classmates had room to walk by. "I was going to see if you would be my partner for Potions today, but Chapman appeared to need my assistance— not that it did him any good."

"I would have loved to, but…"

"But what?" he asked, stepping closer to her since her voice had trailed off. She was biting her lip. Lucius was beginning to find that he didn't like it when she did that.

"I was talking to the others about you—"

"What others?"

"Girls; the other girls in Gryffindor, and Patricia Rosewood said that making friends with Slytherins was a bad idea—"

Lucius recoiled, going completely rigid. His eyes narrowed. He should have expected her to confront him with such, but hadn't even thought of it before now. Molly didn't appear to be the type to judge people based on their sorting, but in the end, everyone would at some point, Lucius too. Still, he had thought Molly was different. He hadn't seen her as a _Gryffindor_. He considered her a…

A what exactly…?

A _friend_. Gryffindor or not, a friend. Or at least he had _thought_ she was his friend.

"And you think the same?" His voice was bitter and cold, making her eyes widen, likely shocked by its direct change in tone.

"Well, no… I _do_ have brothers in Slytherin: they aren't bad boys in the slightest," she answered quietly. "I think the whole rivalry thing is a bit silly really, but I got to thinking… we have to spend seven years with these people, and while I don't care so much about my social status, I don't want to be exactly _outcasted_. You must feel the same, right?"

His stance softened as he absorbed her words into his mind. She was right. If he spent too much time with a Gryffindor— Slytherin's rival since the dawn— he would lose all the footing he already had with his housemates and any chance of it growing stronger. No, he had to do everything by the book, it was the only proven way.

"I agree," he admitted grimly.

"I'm not saying we can't be friends," Molly added quickly. "But I believe that if it's going to involve these ridiculous house points, we should probably stick to our own housemates— play it safe, yes?"

Lucius cocked a tiny grin. "So why aren't you a Slytherin again, Molly?"

She chuckled, looking away. "Well, um…"

"You _chose_ Gryffindor?!" he said accusingly, reading her clearly.

Molly's petite teeth started nibbling on her lip again, pulling at a loose piece of skin. "Well, the twins… they'd never let me do anything fun… not if I was in Slytherin with them. Overprotective, you see, and well, how embarrassing it would be to have them breathing down my neck constantly throughout my adolescent years," she paused to look at him before giving Lucius a sly grin. "Besides, I don't think I look good at all in green."

Lucius busted out into laughter, assuming that the last bit was a joke. Molly joined in, at ease to see him do it for the first time since they had met.

"So, we can meet up after classes then, Lucius?" she asked when they had settled down.

"I would like that. 3:45?"

"The Great Hall?"

"Sounds perfect."

They then said their goodbyes, each hurrying off to their next class.


	3. Chapter 3

Everyday, Lucius and Molly would meet up after classes. They talked about their home lives, what was going on in their sorted houses, and their favourite belongings. They told each other practically everything happening in their lives. They practiced a few spells together for part of their homework assignments from their professors, and even studied books together (though Molly just skimmed through the ones that were boring to her). From 3:45pm to 5:00pm they were inseparable. And it had not gone unnoticed.

"What do you and Molly do when you meet up anyway?" Bellatrix asked one day as the first year Slytherins trooped out to an open field of grass for their first flying lesson.

"They probably kiss," Stephano joked.

"Eww, no!" Lucius shuddered in disgust. "Why would I kiss a _girl_?"

"As opposed to kissing a boy?" Bellatrix questioned with raised eyebrows.

"I'm not _kissing_ anyone!" Lucius protested. "We just talk and read books."

"Sounds positively interesting," Bellatrix remarked in sarcasm. Growing bored with the boys, she hurried off to catch up with her new friend Debra Ashfeather.

"You do talk a lot about Molly," Stephano pointed out. "And spend an incredible amount of time with her."

"No different than you with Marquesa."

Stephano grimaced. "Gosh… Do I really?"

Lucius nodded. "Oh, yes. Quite a bit. You've told me how many siblings she has: three, two brothers and a sister, all younger than her. I know her favourite Hogwarts subject and her favourite pastime. I even know which Quidditch team she supports, and all I've said to her was hello, because her accent is too hard for me to understand."

Stephano tilted his head in guilt. "I am sorry, I didn't realize I was so annoying about it."

"I guess I'm just as guilty," Lucius said, considering his own habit.

"Girls here are a little different, aren't they?"

Lucius scoffed. "Bellatrix is the same!"

"Yes, you're right…" Stephano said thoughtfully. "Do you think she'll ever change— like some of the other girls have?"

Lucius shrugged. "I haven't met many girls to know what they are capable of… I have learned though, since coming here, that not all are so bad. But Bellatrix…" Lucius paused, looking at the girl. She was now marching at the front of the entire group, her wand gripped firmly in her hand, hardly ever seen without it. Lucius noticed that several of their housemates had created a decent sized gap between them and her, as Bellatrix was quickly becoming known on what she could do with that wand.

"Bellatrix is one of a kind," Lucius stated. "And don't think that I mean that in a good manner. It's best to remain on her good side— and out of her sight whenever possible."

"Definitely," Stephano agreed with a nod.

"You want to meet Molly?" Lucius asked when he caught sight of her red hair glistening in the sun, the Gryffindors already at the designated flying spot.

Stephano answered with a shrug of his shoulders. So Lucius led him to the girl who was standing near a broom that was laying in the grass.

"Hello, Molly, this is my friend Stephano Zabini."

"Hi, Stephano," Molly said with a shaky voice. She had a sleeve of her robes pulled up to her elbow and was scratching at the exposed arm. "Lucius has told me all sorts of things about you," she went on, all the while scratching. "He says you can speak Italian. I can't speak no other language than English, so I think that's great!"

Both Lucius and Stephano gave Molly an odd look. "What's wrong with your arm?" Lucius asked.

Molly laughed sheepishly and immediately ceased her scratching. Bright, red streaks were left behind from her abuse. "Nothing at all."

"Alright then…" Stephano said, still giving her a strange look. "Nice to meet you, Molly." Then he told Lucius that he was going to talk with Marquesa before the flying teacher came.

"Do you have a rash?" Lucius asked Molly after Stephano walked off. "Do you need some ointment?"

"No," she groaned lowly, sounding pitiful. She balled up her fists, willing herself not to scratch anymore.

Lucius was confused. "Why were you scratching then?"

"I—" She looked at the ground and mumbled something that he couldn't make out.

"I didn't hear what you said."

"It's too embarrassing…"

"As embarrassing as Swishy Little Fishy?"

He had expected her to laugh, but it didn't work. Instead, she clamped her teeth together, saying, "Much more…"

"Alright," Lucius said slowly, even more curious to know what it was that was bothering Molly.

Molly sighed in defeat and stepped right up close to him, whispering words into his ear. Her breath tickled his skin, sending a funny feeling to his stomach. He blinked, trying to focus on what she had said.

"You fell off your broom?"

Molly's lip tucked between her teeth. She nodded. "At home… last year…haven't been on one since..."

The itching… it was another nervous tick of hers. First the lip biting, now this? How many more did she have?

"You're afraid to fly," he concluded.

She heaved a quivering breath. "Extremely!"

"Well, it was bound to happen eventually, even the best flyers get tossed off their brooms from time to time. You just get back on and ride again."

"I can't!" she squeaked, covering up her face in shame.

"You can. Watch." Lucius positioned himself near a gangly looking broom and said, "Up." The broom lifted right up into his hand, then he straddled it, keeping his feet on the ground. "Now you try."

"I don't want to!" she whispered, fear in her voice. Her lips trembled.

"You have to. Passing the class is mandatory."

Then Lucius got an idea. He asked her how long she had been riding a broom before she had taken the fall.

"Practically all my life," she told him without a thought. "Mother got me a broom before I was even a year old."

"Well then, you're an excellent flyer. I fell off the day I was put on one, and several times after. At your rate, it'll be another nine years before you fall off again."

Molly gave him a doubtful look. "You're just talking rubbish."

"Perhaps you should be more concerned about being the only witch in the entire school's history who gets kicked out of Hogwarts, all because you refuse to get back on a broom. Imagine the headline with that one."

Molly paled at the thought. "My parents would disown me if I got kicked out of school!" she gasped. "And… my wand…! They'll take it away and break it!"

"Then you better not let that happen." Lucius held out the broom for her to take, and she hesitantly took it from him, mounting it in determination.

"And that's how it's done, Gryffindor," he gently teased her, earning a nervous laugh.

"You'll be alright without me?" Lucius asked when the flying teacher came walking up to the students. "I should join my housemates now."

"I think I've got it," Molly said bravely, smiling weakly. "Thank you for helping me, Lucius."

"It's nothing at all."

November was when Quidditch season started at Hogwarts between the houses. Lucius wasn't a big fan of the sport— mainly because he was no good at it. He was talking to Molly about wanting to skip the first game.

"But Slytherin is playing," she pointed out.

They were currently in a Chess match, and she had just moved her Queen in, calling him into check. Lucius directed his remaining Rook to block his King from defeat.

"I just don't know how I'm going to pull off looking like an avid fan. Am I supposed to eagerly wave my little Slytherin pennant? Are they expecting me to cheer— because I'm not going to."

"All they want is your support, Lucius. I hate Quidditch, it's all anyone talks about in my house, as it's our only chance at beating your house with the House Cup, but I'll be there for my housemates, waving my Gryffindor flag. Besides, you know that if you're not there, your housemates will crucify you. You Slytherins stick together like tar. And even the professors are going to be there supporting their houses!"

"Well…" he gave it a thought. "I suppose if we beat the Gryffindors, it would be nice to see the sore looks on your faces."

Molly rolled her eyes. "I could honestly care less who wins the Quidditch game."

"What about the House Cup?"

"Personally? I'm not very competitive, not like the others in my house, but I would hope that my house wins only because I don't wish to hear from everyone about how Slytherin cheated in order to win."

"We _are_ accused of cheating a lot…"

"Yes, and I've seen some of my housemates do some very questionable things…"

"Like what?"

Molly laughed. "I'm better off not saying anything."

"Tell me!" Lucius demanded. "They always brag about how angelic they are, I'd like to know what they're capable of."

"I don't want anyone getting into trouble. Forget I said anything."

Lucius scrunched up his nose. "Fine then, be that way." He pretended to be offended.

"I will," Molly said pointedly, knowing he was teasing her. "Ooh! Checkmate!"

"I really hate this game," Lucius grumbled, watching her Queen smash his King's head off.

A few weeks later, they were saying their goodbyes for the Christmas holiday. Molly actually hugged Lucius. He didn't know what to say when she had done it, too shocked by the gesture. It was extremely quick, but meaningful.

And embarrassing.

"Prewett's daughter?" Mr. Malfoy asked with a raised eyebrow when Lucius had stumbled his way over to where his parents had been patiently waiting for him. They watched the Prewett family group up and then slip out from Platform 9 ¾ to Kings Cross.

"Um, yes," Lucius answered, shifting his feet, his ears felt a little warm though it was cold enough to see puffs of breath. "We're friends."

"So, she got sorted into Slytherin too?" His mother inquired.

Lucius looked down at his shoes, preparing himself for an uncomfortable conversation. "No, she's a Gryffindor— but she hardly acts like it! She spends more time with me than any Gryffindor, all her free time just about. She doesn't care that I'm Slytherin, and she defends our house. Molly only chose Gryffindor to be away from her elder brothers, they smother her, you see—"

"Lucius, son, it's alright…" his mother finally stopped his rushed explanation, placing a hand on his head but then quickly removing it, remembering that he didn't like anyone touching his beautiful hair.

"It… is?" Lucius asked mildly confused.

"Prewett's a good man," his father said, "and if Molly really is all that you said, then I see no problem with you two being friends. She comes from a grand line of wizards. Her second great-grandmother came up with an easier recipe for the Boil Cure, did you know? Saves us roughly three hours."

"No, I didn't know. Molly never said anything about it."

"Isn't that sweet? She hasn't used her family's fame for gain yet," Mrs. Malfoy crooned.

"Not a bright move, if you ask me," Mr. Malfoy criticized. "There's nothing wrong with making it known what you're capable of. After all, a lot of our skills are inherited from our ancestors."

"Molly is very good in potions. She always gets house points; Slughorn is impressed by her."

"And how about yourself?" his father asked Lucius expectantly.

"Oh, yes, of course! I'm at the top of the class!" Lucius announced proudly. "Molly and I share tips when we're studying. We're both above everyone else— I'm better than her, Father, but she's not too far behind me."

Mr. Malfoy nodded approvingly. "Excellent, son."

Lucius didn't have the guts to tell his parents that Molly was above him in Charms; he didn't think they needed to know that.

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